Bonfire
by JassAsylum
Summary: CURRENTLY BEING RE-WRITTEN ON ANOTHER ACCOUNT!
1. Prologue

**Author's note:**

Sooo...

I am in love with InuYasha again. Figures.

It was actually one of my first animes as a kid and like most of those animes it has a really, really special place in my heart...and head cause that's kinda where this story was taken from.

I know there are a lot (I've only seen a few though) of Sesshomaru x Oc stories out there, and some might be getting a bit tired of them, but I truly love my oc in this one and would like to present my work in this part of fanfiction. Ships be damned at the moment (sorry if I offended anyone ^^''). This one will be different however, I promise.

_**Warning:**_There will be bashings, violence, and later even maybe some...scenes...which will not be ideal for some youngsters out there (or people who treasure their innocence really much) so... do not read unless you know you can take it.

**I do not, under any circumstances own InuYasha or any of it's characters or plot. That honour goes solely to dear Rumiko Takahashi who I will never be. Ever. So don't sue me. Please.**

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><p><strong><span>Bonfire<span>**

**Prologue**

"Sari...dear, I have to talk to you for a bit..." The young mother said with sorrow in her voice as she sat, almost unmoving on the pearly white futon* placed neatly at the centre of the small bed-room. The only light provided being the one that came from the tiny lamp standing but a few inches from the soft bedding.

It was a cold winter day, and the shadows stood tall in any corner and hallway, stalking anyone they could access to and caused any human to look more drained than they could possibly be. It was them playing, the shadows, playing like children on a summer day, and this particular woman, shaking in both fear and because of her trembling heart, was an especially fun play-mate and victim. Her structures just begging for any of them to be present – to be the shadows lingering upon her face like the gloom of a ghost.

She was visibly sick, her skin pale and greasy, and her facial appearance that of a skull. Thin, bony and horrible.

However, despite the woman's weakened state, as it seemed her sickness had taken the better hold of her in this season, she felt at least content in what she knew would be her final moments.

She could at least spend them with her beloved child, her little bonfire, Sari, at the moment sitting in her lap.

"What do you mean Mama?" The little girl asked, letting her keen eyes – yellow irises and white pupils – stare wondrously into her mother's own. Exact copies, had it not been for one of the pair being drained of all life they'd ever contained. "You sound like Papa did when he left...Mama are you leaving too?"

So innocent, yet so sorrowful. The tone that the child had used was naïve, unknowing of the cruelty the world so easily could bring upon you. And simply that had caused a tear to fall down the woman's ashen cheeks. Breaking whatever strong barrier she had managed to hold up until now.

"Oh, Sari, I am so, so, so sorry." She cried another tear, let a sob break through her vocal cords. "But Mama can't help it. There is nothing she can do, Mama has to go..."

"NO! Mama I wanna stay with you! Take me with you!"

"Sari..."

Little Sari started to wail loudly, protesting against what her mother had said and clutched the garment she wore as if it was a life-line. She had her eyes screwed shut and rivers of salty water flowed down her rosy cheeks, staining the woman's robes as they at the same time where being stretched by the daughter's tiny hands.

A couple of months ago, the mother might have smiled at the scene, feeling that it was quite ironic, or possibly just serendipitous. As it seemed, Sari had quite the gift with instincts. Even if she didn't know it she could read a situation accurately, and then adapt, and the woman was glad because of that, for neither of the girl's parents had ever been very smart. And it was not probable that the girl would be a genius later in life either.

Like mother, like daughter, or however that proverb went.

Sari looked a lot like her father, even with her face red and full of tears and snot as she cried. She had the same red hinted dark brown hair, pale skin and pointed chin as her father. The same kind look in her eyes – even if the eyes themselves where her mother's – and sculptured cheekbones. Though, as young as she was it was barely visible.

The child was beautiful in looks and act alike; though she might be a little spitfire now and then, but that was to be expected. She was a blessing no matter how much it sometimes pained the mother to look at her because of her resemblance to her late father. However, as well as it was a layer of sorrow upon the woman's heart it was a remainder of how much she had loved her husband, and still loved him. And seeing her child in tears like this, was almost like seeing her husband break down, and it tore her heart to pieces in a similar way of how it had felt losing him.

Oh, god it hurt.

"Please, don't cry, Sari my dear" She hugged her child tightly and wiped away, from reddened cheeks, a tear with her thumb. "I don't know what the future may hold for you, I'm not a seer...and I know you will be sad while Mama has gone to where Papa is..."

Sari wailed even more loudly. So the mother tried with another approach.

"Shh, Sari, please...just...listen. There is something I have to give you before I d-leave, and it is very important, okay...?"

This helped only a little. The girl was still crying in the woman's arms, but she was beginning to calm down, to some extent, and the woman felt that her child would pay attention from then on.

Leaving her daughter to her parents-in-law was a brutal fate to give a child, in the eyes of a mother, but necessary in a situation like this. Of course, had there been a cure for the sickness the woman would have taken it, there would be no doubt in that decision, but such a thing did not exist, and the only option left was to leave a heirloom. So that the child would at least never forget.

The mother grabbed after the object laying at the feet of the futon by the closet. It was an oblong item. Around the height of half the woman had she been standing up, and it was wrapped in a silken cloth. One that looked more expensive than anything else in the room – possibly the whole apartment. It was red, like blood, and the object gave of a luminous ambience, like the one fire did.

The girl had by then completely quieted down, only letting a sob escape occasionally. She was staring at the object, wonder sparkling in her red, watery eyes, and her brows were furrowed.

"Mama..?"

"Sari. This is what I want you to listen to. This is _Takibi_, a katana* that has been passed down my family for generations, and it will be the memory I give you for my departure. Which will be soon."

Another tear fell, and her heart gave a jolt.

"Never lose it, you hear? Bring it everywhere you go if you must. Think of it as Mama and Papa's medium so that we can watch over you."

Sari studied the object for a second still, eyes concentrating stubbornly before she looked into her mother's and spoke once again.

"But, Mama, it looks heavy...and what is a medum?"

The mother laughed faintly and let a few more tears fall before a sudden coughing fit seized her and she started to shake violently.

And then she felt it, at last. Her heart burning viciously, and her body numbing all over. She fell over, into the bedding, but she still held onto her child. Tightly embracing her to the point that it almost hurt.

"Mama! Mama are you alright!?" Sari crawled out of her mother's embrace, forcibly separating the woman's arms from her small body as the bigger body continued to seize. She was shaking, out of fear or pain, and when the child saw her mother's pain filled expression, heard her scream, she began to cry again.

"Sari...please...whatever you do...m-mama and p-papa w-will always love you...ok?...Just live as you like...don't...'gasp'...do anything t-that is forced upon you..." The woman's voice was more irregular than ever before.

"M-Mama...please..please don't go...I-I love you mama"

"…..d-don't loose sight of the bonfire, a-alright?"

And with that, no longer hearing anything the child so desperately cried, the frail, kind but sorrowful woman inhaled for the last time. Eyes closing with what could to some extent be called a smile.

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><p>Futon; traditional Japanese bed, like a madras of some sort<p>

Katana; Japanese sword

**A/N: **

And that's that folks. The prologue, I hope it was satisfactory and I will be posting the first real chapter soon. I hope... Well, studies are a bitch and all that, but oh, so important.

So, R & R and I hope to see you in the next chapter


	2. Chapter 1 Once it beginns

_**A/N:**_

So, I had a lot of problems with this chapter. Sentances not going the way I wanted them to, writer's block halfway through and more. But I hope this will be satisfying any way and although it's sorta a filler, or an introduction (you choose) I was sorta content with how it turned out (for kami's sake I had to rewrite it five frikken times!)

Oh, and thanks a lot for those who fav, followed and reviewed last time!

_**Words that might be useful knowing:**_

Sensei: teacher or doctor (in this case it's teacher)

Katana: Japanese sword

Kenjutsu: art of the sword, or swordplay

Kendo: a modern sport that's practically kenjutsu

Takibi no honou: Takibi's full name, Bonfire's blaze

Jii-chan: informal way of saying Grandfather (or if you just know him well)

_**Copyright:**_I don not under any circumstances own InuYasha or any of it's characters. Again, that honour goes to Rumiko-sensei and the animation team. I do however own Hinote Sari and any other character or plot that is not of the manga or anime, so hands off!

_P.S _

_If anyones interested I have rewritten some parts of the prologue, so go read it if you have time!_

Now, Enjoy!

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><p><span><em><strong>Chapter 1<strong>_

_**Once it beginns**_

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><p><em><strong>A sword is a dangerous weapon. One to be reckoned with. It bears pride as well as blood-lust and any swords master who listens to the blade's soul will hear it cry.<strong>_

_**It cries for vengeance, it cries for the blood to be spilled upon it's sharpened claws. It's like a panther, silent and swift. The perfect predator.**_

_**However, if swords where panthers, the ones that are double edged would be ones who kill only for the fun of it, not for food or survival. They would attack everyone and anyone, machines of slaughter, until finally a peak would be met.**_

_**Machines of slaughter indeed, but with the additional self-destruct button. That is exactly what a double edged sword is.**_

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><p>"...and so class, this weeks homework will be the text and questions on page 45 to 67. Good luck and have a nice weekend." Said the professor sitting behind the teacher's desk. His name was Fuuta Kouske, but his students shortly called him Fuu-sensei; a small man with balding grey-black hair and round spectacles covering his dull grey eyes. He taught history and though he was a favourite among the teachers at Noborizaka high school, his voice always tender and light as he spoke, there where days, like this one that none where happy to see him.<p>

Distinctly hearing his student groan at his words the elderly man gathered up his papers upon the desk and scanned the crowd. Like usually there was a person missing from the class; Higurashi Kagome, (it seemed that this time the poor girl had a diabetes emergency), and then there was the one student who always slept through the classes. Hinote Sari. She was like most days hidden behind the backs of the three classmates sitting in front of her and the only way one would be able to see her was because of that strange wrapped katana she owned and bore with her everywhere she went. Which was leaning against her bench.

Kouske sighed in annoyance and decided to wake the girl. Maybe she would be able to bring the papers to her sick classmate.

Φ

"...te-kun, Hinote-kun! Would you wake up if you please?"

Tired eyes opened slowly, revealing the strange yellow colour they bore, as she felt her shoulder being shaken gently. Her short red hinted dark-brown hair fell in front of her eyes when she tried, and miserably failed, to lift her head from it's place on the bench before curtly falling in place again. Eyes closed once more.

"If I may be as bold as to ask for your attention, Hinote-kun, you might be able to go home and sleep instead of on that hard wooden bench."

That got her attention.

Hinote Sari opened her eyes swiftly and lifted her head from the cosy pillow that was her elbows to meet her teachers judging gaze. One she had received all to many times before. The students all around her snickered quietly at her behaviour but she didn't mind. She kept her dulled gaze upon her teacher – disrespect only oozing from her expression – and yawned.

"What do I owe the pleasure of seeing your irrational face for this fine evening Fuu-sensei?" She said.

The teacher only sighed, and brought his free hand, the one not holding a stack of papers, to rub his temple in frustration before lifting his gaze to his student again. She smiled apologetically back.

"I'm sorry sensei, but really, you usually don't wake me, so what is it?" Sari asked a bit curiously. Her voice slightly hoarse as she spoke. She knew she had managed to sleep through the whole lesson again, but it had never gotten her in trouble before. Nearly all the teachers knew by now, as she had been forced to retake ninth year, that her sole passion in life was to take care of those she considered family and _kenjutsu_, or kendo as it was called in this day and age – she had no interest in history unless it involved just that.

"You live rather close by the Higurashi shrine do you not, Hinote-kun?"

Sari nodded at his question. That was true, even if her apartment was at least a kilometre away from that residence she was the one who lived the closest. But she didn't really see where this was going.

"Yes, but what of it?" Her mind was still half-asleep.

"Really Hinote-kun, use your head. I want you to take Higurashi-kun's homework to her. She's missed a lot and can't afford to miss any more. Unlike you." Fuu-sensei clarified as he laid the stack of papers upon her desk, making it perfectly clear that this was what Higurashi Kagome had missed. "Now head off as quickly as you can, it wouldn't be good if you got caught in that rain approaching."

The teacher left her desk at that, with brisk steps and a smile of accomplishment upon his lips. Thinking he had brought upon something wonderful upon the class, like a new friendship being formed, while on the other hand the sleepy teenager didn't look quite as happy at all. She was frowning.

It wasn't as if she had something against the Higurashis. She and Kagome where to an extent friends and got along rather well, but recently whenever the girl was sick her family would lie – a couple of ridiculous lies at that – about where and why she was absent. Because of her worrisome nature that worried Sari greatly, and she didn't like that, she wanted her sleep to remain undisturbed and her training focused.

Those papers where threatening to destroy that. What if Kagome really was missing and her family just didn't know what to do? What if she had been kidnapped?

Reluctantly Sari stood up and grabbed the papers, put them in her red sports-bag, trying not to wrinkle them beside her kendo uniform, and grasped her wrapped katana – _The Takibi no honou_.

Hopefully the bad feeling she had about this was only paranoia.

Φ

To Sari's eyes the Higurashi residence looked derelict. It was the same with every building the city really, either they looked derelict or modest, but these old settlements, in particular, gave her chills. From the sea-blue coverage to the raked zen garden, it was all in a sense apprehensive.

She was walking along the tiled road led before her, the one leading to the modernized house behind the actual shrine where the inhabitants lived, ate and slept. Her feet heavy every time they touched the ground and her, still as unusual, eyes scanned every corner they could look upon.

As quickly as she had entered the shrine's domain she had felt like this. Her heartbeat quickening, yet her process of thought becoming a haze, and sense of hearing dulled. She was holding the bag slung over her shoulder and katana with a steel like grip, it nearly hurt, and distinctly she could feel the _Takibi _heat up beneath it's wrappings as if it was expecting something to happen. Why was it that she always got so nervous when approaching a shrine?

From what she could remember she'd constantly acted this way however, and there was nothing to be done about it, so she continued walking, stiff stride and lower lip between her teeth.

She had been walking for about a quarter of a minute still, when something made her stop. It was a shed of some sort. An old one, which possibly should have begun to rot a long while ago, and from behind the thin wooden walls there was a noise of scratching reaching her ears. It was a horrible sound.

The sound, as strange as it might have sounded, made her for a moment forget why she had been at the shrine, one that looked empty at that, in the first place. It was like her feet moved all on it's own, curiosity at the worst of moments be damned, she didn't even think as she approached the sliding door and opened it.

The shed was shrouded in darkness. It was unfurnished and the floorboards made out a quadratic hole in the middle of it. A small staircase leading into that hole was all Sari saw beyond that – what little sunlight was left of this day wasn't enough to light up the room. She had thought for a moment that for some reason the noise would stop when she'd opened the door, yet instead it had only intensified. Now it was so loud it was even hurting her ears.

"Argh! Would you shut it?!" She yelled at whatever was making the sound from the darkness, but no answer was received.

She made an irritated noise, not audible to anyone but herself and approached the steps gradually, holding her left hand at her ear while still manically clutching the bag and katana. When her eyesight had adjusted to the room's non-existent light she was standing in front of a well. The noise coming from inside of it.

That had to be wrong.

A well couldn't make noises. Could it?

Sari carefully leaned over the edge, the hand formerly protecting her ear from deafness now holding onto the rim, and she looked down. Into nothing but darkness, once again.

There really was absolutely nothing there, however loud the noise still was. It was just a gaping hole of blackness, one that made her slightly light-headed, dizzy. She refused to lean back though and had to grip the rim nearly as unyieldingly as she held _Takibi__, _as not to fall down.

For a moment there was but the all too loud scratching at the end of the well, during which Sari tried desperately to distinguish the wells ground, searching with her yellow eyes for any explanation.

Then, the next thing she knew she was air-born.

It had happened so quickly she had barely managed to feel it. But something had pushed her. She was sure she had felt a clawed hand hit her shoulder and made her fall, but she didn't dare to turn her head, nor would she be able to; because of the air pressure. She tried to cover up her scream, but failed miserably, and in the turmoil of what was happening she had lost gripping of both _Takibi_ and her bag. Had she not been screaming she might also have taken notice of that the scratching had stopped – just the moment that something had touched her shoulder.

As she hit the ground, stomach first, it felt like someone had punched her. A pathetic groan of pain forced itself through her throat before, slowly but surely unconsciousness claimed her senses.

Φ

Jii-chan Higurashi opened his eyes grudgingly, feeling his old bones start to ache. He was lying in front of the old storehouse, the broomstick in his hands and a feeling that he missed something that shouldn't be missed in his stomach.

Why was he lying there in the first place?

He couldn't even remember falling asleep. Much less out here in the cold; and hadn't it been midday just now?!

He sat up abruptly, for a moment fearing that he had experienced a stroke and looked down at his hands, which had let go of the broomstick by then. He was not a spirit, not dead, and it seemed no one in the family was crying over his body.

A sigh of relief came from his moustache clad mouth.

"Ah, I guess I was imagining things" He said. "I must be getting old."

Dusting off his clothes as he stood up, bones still aching, he then turned around, headed for the main house where he hoped his daughter-in-law would soon cook something delicious to make up for the slight adventure he'd had today.

The old man being...well, old, he did not see the tall shadow sneaking out of the wellhouse as he passed it. It's quiet but haunting snigger lost to the busy city's many noises.

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><p>How did you think it was? Good, bad? Please R&amp;R, the first few reviews will get a preview of the next chapter and I will update as quickly as I can :)<p> 


	3. Author's Note! Important!

**ATTENTION ALL BONFIRE READERS! I am not abandoning this fic, but instead re-writing it! The new version, and the only version I will continue to write on, is going to be on my new account which I started as I lost my password to this one, (recently re-discovered it recently but I'm still not going to use this account any more). It's called the exact same, "Bonfire", and will hopefully be updated regularly - at least more regularly than this one. **

**The link to the fic is down below!**

s/11851238/1/Bonfire

**Otherwise because does not like links it can be easily found if you search for "Bonfire" and narrow the results down to "Anime" and "InuYasha". My new pen-name is "burntpaperplanes"**


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